


Five Little Deaths for Liam O'Hallaran

by girlpire



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, F/M, Hand Job, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Voyeurism, bad irish accent, very little historical accuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlpire/pseuds/girlpire
Summary: Scenes from the life of a young 18th-century Irish man with the face of an angel who has no idea what destiny has in store for him. Except that there will be lots of sex."He thought about asking God what the hell had just happened to him, but decided perhaps it would be best not to mention it and see if the Lord brought it up first. He felt terribly guilty. He felt even guiltier when he got to his room and contemplated doing it again. He could never be a priest at this rate."
Relationships: Angel (BtVS)/Other(s), Angel/Darla (BtVS), Angel/Original Female Character, Angelus (BtVS)/Original Character(s), Angelus/Darla (BtVS), Liam/Darla, liam/ofc
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Five Little Deaths for Liam O'Hallaran

1.  
  
As far back as he could remember, Liam O'Hallaran had believed in God. At a very young age, he began attending daily mass with his father and paid close, analytical attention to everything that was said, even the parts that were in Latin. He believed most of it. He could name all the saints by the time he was six, and Father Kinney always smiled warmly and patted him on the head when he asked questions - which he did, constantly.  
  
Liam was the youngest altar boy St. Mary's By the Sea had ever had. Everyone said he looked like a little angel, and that alone was enough to prove to him that he had found favor with God. By age eight, he was already convinced that he was going to be a priest when he grew up. His father was so proud.  
  
Charlie Sullivan, Liam's only cousin on his mother's side, was not nearly so blessed. The boy was two years older than Liam and something of a hellion. Whenever Charlie's family came over for dinner, Liam often found himself leading his little sister around by the hand wherever he went, because he was afraid of leaving her alone in the older boy's company. Unless Charlie wanted to play tag, in which case the young girl was cheerfully abandoned inside the house. (Liam was very good at tag.)  
  
Charlie was constantly earning himself whippings for various reasons, so Liam was always cautious whenever he deigned to play with the older boy. He obviously didn't want to get a whipping himself, but fortunately when they did get in trouble, it always seemed to be Charlie's fault rather than Liam's, and so Liam managed to stay in the favor of his parents and thus in the favor of God Himself - although he did make sure to explain his side of the story to God anyway, in case there was ever any doubt of his innocence. He was secure in the knowledge that God always blamed Charlie too.  
  
In one such instance, Charlie had herded three younger boys - Liam and two of the neighbors - behind a blueberry bush and persuaded them to drop trou. The blueberries were not in season and were only small, green things, and the four boys had an interesting time competing among themselves by pulling back their foreskins, arranging the unripe berries around their penises, and then using the skins to hold them there. The winner with the bumpiest result was of course Charlie Sullivan, which Liam merely attributed to his advanced age and larger... stature.  
  
Later, Liam tried to decide whether or not what they had done was wrong, but he couldn't remember Father Kinney having ever mentioned blueberries during mass before, and knew from a previous talk with the priest that most of the men in the Bible weren't equipped as he was to play with blueberries like this anyway. He resolved to ask his father, which of course resulted in another whipping for Charlie Sullivan. After their talk, Liam was suitably outraged that Charlie had taken advantage of his innocence, and spent a very long time explaining the whole thing to God, whom he was sure agreed with him.  
  
About a year after the blueberry incident, when Liam was ten and Charlie was twelve, the older boy made reference to an act Liam had never heard of and honestly didn't believe in. He listened with rapt attention as Charlie boasted about his own experiences, but besides not quite believing the act possible, Liam couldn't help feeling that perhaps it might be morally wrong. When he suggested this, Charlie laughed at him. "It's your own fist, innit Liam? And your own pecker! Where's the harm?" When the younger boy asked why anyone would want to do it in the first place, Charlie insinuated that Liam was afraid and was an idiot as well, but he did explain that the purpose was “to get the feeling, o' course!" Liam inquired as to the nature of this feeling, and according to Charlie, the feeling "gets you right here, and it's the damnedest giant tickle ye ever felt!"  
  
Of course Liam dismissed the idea as nonsense. Then again, Charlie Sullivan had been essentially proven right by Liam's own mother after he'd told Liam where babies came from, so the boy wasn't entirely incredible... Anyway, Liam was curious enough to investigate, which led him to experience the most boring, ludicrous, and unclimactic hour he'd ever spent in the privy, after which he decided he'd had enough of Charlie Sullivan's lies once and for all.  
  
His first orgasm came as a complete shock some months later.  
  
It was a warm day, and he'd been lying on the grass in the shade of the stable, arms crossed behind his head, not really thinking about anything when he became aware of an imminent erection. He glanced around and, seeing no one, unbuttoned his breeches to let it poke out. He began stroking it idly as it swelled, enjoying the slight breeze across his body and the warmth of the earth against his back. He could smell the hay in the stable, as well as the two horses, and could hear their soft, intermittent whinnying to each other. The sky was very blue. He stared up into it, and he decided with satisfaction that it was the very bluest sky he'd ever seen, and that the clouds were the very fluffiest white clouds that had ever existed. A bird glided across the sky. Liam followed it with his eyes. He imagined what it would be like to be a bird in such a blue sky, riding lightly on the wind with outstretched wings, soaring higher and higher, above the fluffy white clouds, the sunlight glinting off his back...  
  
Liam's body was suddenly consumed with sensation. His mouth dropped open, his toes curled up inside his shoes, and his belly and thighs tingled. His back arched up off the ground. He felt as though he were being struck by lightening, but the lightening was coming from inside him and was spilling out over his hand. He cried out, but quickly silenced himself in case someone should come running and witness his shame.  
  
When he had his breath back, Liam carefully straightened his clothes and cleaned himself up a little at the well before going back in the house. His mind was reeling. He thought about asking God what the hell had just happened to him, but decided perhaps it would be best not to mention it and see if the Lord brought it up first. He felt terribly guilty. He felt even guiltier when he got to his room and contemplated doing it again. He could never be a priest at this rate.  
  
He wondered what Charlie Sullivan would say.  
  


2.  
  
"Christ, look at the tits on that one," Charlie murmured, nudging Liam with his elbow. They were crouched down in an alley beside a house of ill repute, peering through a large crack in one of the shutters.  
  
"They're big," Liam agreed.  
  
"Big? They're feckin' huge, aren't they? A man could get lost in there... look at 'em bounce."  
  
It wasn't the first time the two teenage boys had come to this part of town late at night to watch the goings-on behind closed doors - or closed windows - of whorehouses. Charlie even claimed to have experienced the goods and services of some of the lovely ladies in this very house, although Liam wasn't sure he believed that. Liam himself was only 15 years old and, although he was already taller than his 17-year-old cousin, still looked very young and probably wouldn't have been allowed inside, though he'd never actually tried going in. Not that he didn't want to. God, how he wanted to.  
  
"What a sweet arse she has, too. Look at that," Charlie narrated. "What I wouldn't give to --"  
  
"Alright, lads," a female voice interrupted. "We'll have our money now, if you please."  
  
The startled boys leapt to their feet and turned around. A woman with tightly-curled black hair was standing in the alley in front of them with a hand outstretched, palm up. There was a younger-looking blonde standing slightly behind her, and both regarded the boys expectantly.  
  
Charlie looked indignant. "Money?" he demanded. "What for?"  
  
"Well, you're gettin' a show, aren't ye?" the black-haired woman said, placing her hands on her hips. "And you've had enough free shows off of us, Charlie Sullivan. This is a business, ye know, not a charity."  
  
"I don't know what you're on about, Ms. Janie," Charlie replied. "We wasn't watching a thing, were we, cousin?" Liam started to answer, but Charlie cut him off. "We was just looking at your broken shutter here," he said. "Thought we might fix it up for you later, for a favor, like." The older boy looked smug. "But not if you go accusing us o' peeping, 'course."  
  
Ms. Janie rolled her eyes. Then she marched right up to Charlie and took a firm hold of his crotch, backing him up to the wall of the house. "Aye, and I suppose lookin' at a broken shutter gave ye this terrible cockstand, did it?" she asked him.  
  
Charlie's eyes went very round, and he opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a quiet squeak. Liam suddenly felt a small hand on his own chest, and he was pushed gently back to the wall beside his cousin. The pretty blonde woman smiled at him.  
  
"Who's your friend, Charlie?" she asked. "I've not seen him before." Ms. Janie had turned to regard him as well, but she still kept a tight hold on his cousin.  
  
"He's... he's been about..." choked the older boy.  
  
The blonde woman continued to smile at Liam, her head tilted slightly to one side. Her wavy gold hair was pinned back from her face and fell softly around her bare shoulders. The low-cut dress she wore accentuated her small breasts and flattered her hips. Liam thought she was beautiful. For a whore.  
  
"My name is Mina," she told him. "What's your name, dear heart?" Her voice was soft.  
  
Liam felt a blush creeping up his neck, but he didn't look away from her face. "Liam," he said.  
  
"Liam," she repeated quietly. Her hand on his chest slid southward. To Ms. Janie, she said, "He's a pretty thing, isn't he?"  
  
"Young," the woman replied. "Probably a little devil like this one." She twisted her hand, and Charlie groaned.  
  
"Oh now, I bet he's a good boy," Mina said. Her hand moved down over his belly, and Liam's heart began to thud more quickly. "Tell me, are you a good boy, Liam?" she asked him.  
  
"Don't be wastin' your time, Mina," Ms. Janie said. "They couldn't pay for it, surely. If they could, they'd have been knocking at the door like legitimate customers. Isn't that right?" She moved her hand again and Charlie nodded quickly, wincing.  
  
"A face like this one, and I doubt he ever has to pay for anything," Mina said, not looking away from Liam's eyes. Her hand finally came to rest over his erection, and she cupped her fingers around it, squeezed gently. "Oh, he's got a big prick," she murmured.  
  
Liam swallowed.  
  
"Does he now?" Ms. Janie suddenly looked interested. "How big?"  
  
Mina's hand slid up and down over the length of Liam's clothed dick. "Do ye remember Judge Avery?" she asked with a sly glance at her friend.  
  
"Ye don't say!" Ms. Janie turned to Liam. "Let's see it, lad," she said.  
  
Liam's face felt hot, but he managed to keep his voice under control. "Alright," he said quietly. He looked into Mina's blue eyes. "Ye can give it a look if ye take it out yourself."  
  
"Listen to that!" Ms. Janie laughed. "Talkin' like a grown man and all. Well, get it out, Mina, and let's see what he's got to be so proud of."  
  
Mina smiled sweetly at Liam and then looked down to open his breeches. He stared at the top of her golden head, not quite believing this was happening. When he'd snuck out of the house tonight, the last thing he'd expected was to be showing his cock to a couple of whores in an alleyway. He lifted one hand slowly to touch a strand of Mina's hair.  
  
Mina's cool fingers closed around his cock and pulled it out into the night air, leaving it to stand out stiffly on its own. "What do ye think, Ms. Janie?" she asked.  
  
"I think he's older than he looks," the woman said. Her eyes were trained on Liam's cock, but she still had a hand on Charlie. Charlie had his eyes closed.  
  
"Do ye have any money, Liam?" Mina asked him. Her hand was back at his cock, her fingernails tracing very lightly up and down the length of it. It sort of tickled, and he felt like he was about to burst. No one had ever touched him like that before.  
  
"No," he said. "But I can get some."  
  
She smiled at him. "Do ye want me, Liam?" she asked, taking a small step closer to him. She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. "Do ye want me to do something you'll like very much?"  
  
"Aye," he told her sincerely. "I really do."  
  
When the blonde woman knelt in the alley, Liam's first thought was that she would ruin her dress. But then her mouth was on him - she was taking his prick in her mouth, oh God, all warm and wet - and an incredibly short while later, he was releasing over her fluttering tongue while her lips were sealed around him and his fingertips dug into the stone wall of the house behind him.  
  
Liam slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily. He felt like he'd been turned inside out, and his whole body still tingled from the feeling. Mina spit out his release on the ground and stood up, carefully wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. Then she tucked his cock back into his breeches and buttoned them up, smiling at him the whole time.  
  
"That was..." he started. Then, "You're very good at that, Mina."  
  
She laughed. "Thank ye, Liam. You're very sweet."  
  
"And I think ye have the most beautiful hair," he said.  
  
She looked startled, but pleased at the compliment. "Is that so?" She put one hand up and smoothed it back.  
  
Liam reached forward and ran his fingers through her honey-colored locks. Then he put his hand behind her neck and leaned down, kissing her on the lips. "I'll come back tomorrow night," he said when they broke apart. "And I'll bring twice the money so ye can do it again."  
  
"Oh, don't bother yourself about tonight, Liam," Mina told him. "That was my pleasure."  
  
Liam grinned. "Then I'll bring twice the money," he said, "and ye can do it again two times."  
  
Mina laughed and pushed him playfully. "Oh Liam, you're wicked," she said. "But do come back. I wouldn't mind showing ye a few more things."

  
  
3.  
  
"This is what I wanted to show ye," Liam said, closing the door softly behind them. He carefully lit the two candles on the desk, and the small room was filled with a flickering light - just enough to see all the charcoal drawings tacked up on the walls.  
  
"Oh Liam, they're beautiful!" Hannah breathed. She leaned over the small cot to get a better look at the pictures hanging on the wall behind it, and Liam took the opportunity to admire the roundness of her bottom beneath her skirt. Hannah Seaver was a pretty thing. A virgin, too, he was fairly sure. He wondered if she would be a moaner. Of course, it didn't really matter; he liked them quiet or loud, and the stable was far enough from the house that no one would hear them anyway.  
  
Liam went to stand behind her and put his hands on her waist. He felt her tense up, and it made him frown. Girls weren't usually so nervous with him. She was looking at a drawing of a horse. "That's old Pat Black," he told her. "My first horse."  
  
"He's gorgeous," Hannah said. "What happened to him?"  
  
Liam shrugged. "He threw me once too often. Father sold him."  
  
"Oh." Hannah turned to face him. "How awful that must've been for you."  
  
She looked genuinely sorry for him, so he immediately looked down as though the memory were very painful. "I miss him still," he said quietly. The truth was that he still carried a scar from being thrown and had hated the beast terribly, but he could feel Hannah starting to relax underneath his hands.  
  
"How long ago was it?" she asked.  
  
"About five years. I was fourteen."  
  
Hannah squeezed his hand gently before turning back to the drawings. “Why do ye not keep these in the house?” she asked him. “They’re very good, ye know. Better even than Benji Adair’s, and he makes a living on his.”  
  
“Father doesn’t believe in it,” Liam said softly. “He says I’ll never be worth my keep if I go on pretending to be an artist.” He looked down again. When he glanced back at Hannah from beneath his eyelashes, he just happened to catch the exact moment that she fell in love with him. He'd never actually seen it happen before and found it a beautiful experience, one he'd perhaps like to draw someday. "You're so very pretty, Hannah. Have I told ye that before?" he asked her quietly.  
  
She turned away from him, blushing. "No," she said. "Ye haven't." She took a few steps away, towards another wall of his drawings.  
  
"I have always thought so," he said. He walked behind her and put his hands around her waist again, resting his palms on the flare of her hips. "Your hair is lovely," he whispered in her ear. "It's like sunlight in a dark room; it sparkles with the candlelight." He could feel her breathing out slowly. Her blonde curls were piled high on her head and pinned there, but the ringlets trembled slightly. "Will ye put it down for me, Hannah?" he asked. "I've never seen ye with your hair all down about your shoulders."  
  
She swallowed. "Yes, alright," she breathed, sounding a bit nervous. She put her hands up to her hair, feeling around for the pins.  
  
"Here, let me." Liam reached up and carefully began removing the hair pins one by one, letting Hannah's golden locks pour down over her neck. She looked much younger when he turned her to face him. He admired the faint blush across her cheeks. "So very pretty..." he said again. She didn't say anything in response, but looked up at him with a longing that he often found in the eyes of country girls. City girls, he supposed, were too experienced with men to fall in love so easily.  
  
Slowly, so not to startle her, Liam leaned down and kissed Hannah softly on the lips.  
  
In the middle of the kiss, Hannah suddenly pulled away. She gave Liam a long, frightened look, then threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close, burying her face in his chest. She started to cry.  
  
"What is it, Hannah?" he asked, genuinely confused. "What's wrong?"  
  
Her voice came muffled into his shirt. "Oh Liam, I've wanted ye for so long," she cried, "and now that I’ve got ye, I haven't a clue what to do with ye!" Following this confession, her arms tightened around him as though she were scared he'd run away.  
  
Liam bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh. The girl was so silly it was sweet. "Shhh," he soothed, wrapping his arms securely around her. "Shush now, Hannah, it's not so bad. Just do what ye feel like."  
  
"But I don't know what I feel like," she sniffed softly.  
  
He smiled down at the top of her head. "Do ye like me, Hannah?" he asked her.  
  
"Aye, Liam, I like ye very much," she said.  
  
"Then, do ye perhaps want to kiss me again?" he asked.  
  
There was a long pause, and finally Hannah said, "Yes, Liam. Yes, I’d like that." She looked up from his chest, and her eyes were a little pink and wet from tears, but he still thought she was very pretty. Maybe even prettier than before.  
  
"Kiss me, then," he coaxed her. "It's alright."  
  
This time, the kiss went on for a very long while. Hannah's lack of experience excited Liam, and soon enough he was ready and aching to go further. Without breaking their kiss, he took Hannah's hand and placed it over his crotch. She gasped softly into his mouth.  
  
"Christ, Hannah," he whispered between kisses. "I want ye so. Feel how badly I want ye."  
  
"Oh, Liam," she said. She shook her head, but he continued kissing her face and neck. "I... we couldn't. It would be wicked."  
  
"Do ye not want me as well, Hannah?" he asked softly. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her full bottom lip.  
  
"Ye know I do," she said. "But I've never..." She turned her face away, blushing. "I don't know what to do," she said.  
  
"That's alright," Liam told her. He reached up to cup Hannah's breast in his palm, then slid his hand to rub his thumb over her nipple, which was pushing at the fabric of her dress. She sighed softly. "I'll teach ye the way of it," he promised. "Just tell me what ye want to do."  
  
"I..." Hannah started. She glanced over towards the door of the tiny room, and they both heard one of the horses snort in its stall on the other side of the wall. Then she looked back at Liam. "I want... I want to look at ye, Liam," she said. Then she took a deep breath and added hurriedly, "I want to... tolookatyourcock!"  
  
Hannah looked so sweet and anxious that he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again. “Then ye shall,” he said simply. He reached down and quickly unlaced his breeches, freeing his thick cock so that she could see it. “There now,” he said, smiling. “Go on and have a look.”  
  
Hannah stared down between them. She blinked solemnly at the exposed column of flesh, then took a step back from Liam and bent down to see it more closely. She slowly moved around so that she could see it from the other side. Liam thought she looked entirely too serious and, to be funny, made it jump. Hannah gasped and took a step back, then looked up at Liam’s face. He raised an eyebrow in amusement. She suddenly burst into giggles. “It’s so odd!” she exclaimed.  
  
“Odd?” Liam looked down, considering. “It seems perfectly natural to me,” he told her. “Much more so than what you’ve got, I’m thinking.”  
  
“What I’ve got is entirely more natural than that ridiculous contraption any day!” she argued indignantly.  
  
“Perhaps, but yours is all tucked away on the inside,” Liam pointed out. “It doesna make much sense, really.”  
  
Hannah looked thoughtful. “It’s so they can fit together, I suppose,” she said. Suddenly, she looked embarrassed again. “It all seems very silly.”  
  
“It is very silly,” he agreed. “So ye shouldn’t feel embarrassed to talk about it.”  
  
“May I...” Hannah swallowed. “May I touch it?” she asked.  
  
Liam smiled. “I would like that,” he said.  
  
Hannah’s small fingers reached for Liam’s cock and began tiptoeing shyly around it. “It’s... very warm,” she whispered.  
  
“It feels good in your hand,” Liam replied softly. He put his fingers through her hair and tilted her face up for another kiss. “Christ, ye don’t know what ye do to me, Hannah,” he murmured.  
  
She was breathing more quickly now. “Show me what to do,” she said.  
  
“Put your hand like this,” he told her, using his own hand to close her fingers around his cock in a fist, “and move it up and down, like so.” He moved her hand up and down over his erection a few times, then let go. She began doing it on her own, and he closed his eyes.  
  
“Like this? Is this right?” she asked him.  
  
“Aye, God, that’s perfect,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. “Just keep... ah, moving your hand, just like that. Fuck, Hannah, you’re an angel...” He went on whispering encouragements to her between kisses, and she went on stroking his cock the way he’d shown her, growing more and more enthusiastic by the second. Finally, he reached down and held her wrist still. “Stop, stop,” he breathed.  
  
“What’s wrong, Liam?” Hannah looked scared. “Did I hurt ye?”  
  
“No, no,” he reassured her. “You’re a goddess, Hannah; I just can’t endure much more of that without making a mess of myself.” He smiled at her. “And I wouldn’t want to muss your pretty dress, either.”  
  
“Oh...” She looked down and carefully removed her hand from his body. “Do ye want me to leave then?”  
  
“God, no! I just want ye to lie down so I can make ye feel this way too.” He tilted her chin up with his hand. “I want to touch your body the way you’ve been touching mine,” he said quietly. “I can make ye feel so good you’ll not want to leave this stable again in your life. Do ye want that?”  
  
Hannah bit her lip.  
  
“Do ye want me, Hannah?” he asked. “Do ye want me to do something you’ll like very much?”  
  
“Aye,” she said softly. “I really do.”  
  
On the cot in the little room in the stable, with two candles flickering on the desk and drawings of horses all around, Liam pushed up Hannah Seaver’s skirt and brought her to orgasm two times with his fingers before finally taking her virginity. When he came inside her, he called out the name of a whore but quickly followed with two more words in Gaelic, and Hannah, who didn’t know any Gaelic, believed he said he loved her. She fell asleep with her skirt still pushed up, and he drew her that way, hiding the drawing in the desk with many others that were too inappropriate to hang on the walls. Hannah left the stable before sunrise, but not without warning him first:  
  
“Liam O’Hallaran, if ye breathe a word of this to anyone, you’ll never hear a thing from me again.”  
  


4.  
  
“I don’t believe it,” Charlie said, chuckling. “I hear ye sayin’ it, but I don’t believe a word from your mouth.”  
  
Liam smiled smugly. “Believe it, man,” he said. Then he glanced around and leaned forward confidentially. “And just as I’ve got my cock buried in her, she starts hailing Mary before I can even move an inch. Praying a blue streak and crying, too.” He shook his head as he leaned back. “It was something else.”  
  
“But _Ashlyn Lawrence_? I just don’t believe it. Our little Liam, fuckin’ the daughter of a Lord...”  
  
“Not little,” Liam interrupted with a grin. “Ask Ashlyn Lawrence.”  
  
“Aye, or any of the girls in town!” Charlie laughed. He drank the rest of his ale and clacked the empty tankard back down on the table. “Who’d have thought it - Charlie Sullivan married and settled at 25, while Liam O’Hallaran, the youngest altar boy in County Galway, makes his way through the world one sweet quim at a time.”  
  
“Sometimes two,” Liam added, taking a swig of his drink.  
  
“And sometimes two!” repeated Charlie. “Tell me, how do ye do it? Have ye got a bell to ring, that brings the cunny to ye already wet?”  
  
Liam chuckled. “It’s only my natural charm, cousin,” he explained. “Ye wouldn’t know a thing about it.” He signaled the barmaid to bring them another round.  
  
“No, I suppose not,” Charlie sighed. “But at least marriage guarantees sex all your life. Ye never know when the women of Ireland will wise up to your games, Liam, and then where will ye go for a warm bed?”  
  
“Scotland?” Liam suggested. The barmaid smiled at him as she set down their new drinks. His eyes followed the sway of her bottom as she walked away.  
  
Charlie raised his ale. “May the women of Scotland be terrible sluts,” he toasted.  
  
Liam clanked his mug against his cousin’s and took a drink. As he swallowed, he felt a light tap on his shoulder and saw Charlie’s eyebrows go up. He put down his drink and turned to see who it was.  
  
A pretty brunette in a dark green dress was standing in front of him. He smiled at her.  
  
“Liam O’Hallaran,” she said, “you’re a pig!” And with that, she slapped him across the face, turned around, and marched out of the tavern, her skirt swishing. A man whistled after her and some of his friends laughed.  
  
Liam watched the girl go, then turned back to the table, a hand to his cheek. A small smile played at his lips, and he picked up his drink and finished it in one.  
  
“That’ll leave a mark,” Charlie observed. He frowned when Liam stood to go after the girl. “Och,” he said. “I’m to pay again?”  
  
“The perils of earning an honest wage,” Liam replied, clapping Charlie on the back. He started to leave the table.  
  
“And where do ye think you’re goin’?” asked Charlie.  
  
Liam straightened his shirt and threw a grin his cousin’s way. “I’m off to ring a bell,” he said.  
  
He found the girl leaning against the wall behind the tavern, waiting. “Well, ye took your damn sweet time, didn’t ye?” she said. “Or doesn’t it matter to ye anymore when I’m angry?”  
  
“Not that it ever did matter much,” he began, approaching her slowly, “but when you’re boxing my ears in public, then ye know I’ll have something to say back to ye, Bridget.” When he got close to her without incident, he casually put his hands on the wall on either side of her head and leaned closer. “You’ve got to stop slapping me, ye know. If ye go on like this, one day you’ll knock out all my teeth and then ye won’t want me anymore. Can’t have that, can we?”  
  
The corner of the girl’s mouth twitched up. “And who says I want ye now, Liam?” she challenged.  
  
He took one hand from the wall and caressed her cheek softly with the backs of his fingers. She glanced from his eyes to his hand and then back. “You do, Bridget,” he told her huskily. “Ye say it with your whole body.”  
  
“Aye? Well, it’s my hand ye should listen to, Liam. It says for ye to go to hell.” She reached up to slap him again, but he caught her wrist before she could.  
  
He tsked at her. “There’s no call for violence, dear heart. If ye wanted a little attention, all ye had to do was ask.”  
  
”I want nothing you’ve got to offer, ye great oaf,” she spat. “Let go of me.”  
  
Liam conceded with a roll of his eyes and let go of her wrist. As soon as he did, she slapped him across the face again, right on top of the pink handprint already showing on his cheek.  
  
Liam winced, then grabbed hold of both of her wrists, pinning them to the wall above her head. She let out a small gasp. “Enough of that, Bridget,” he scolded. “Either let me alone or admit ye want to bed me again, but you’ll stop hittin’ me this instant or so help me, I’ll take ye over my knee and _make_ ye stop.”  
  
Bridget’s mouth dropped open in indignation, her green eyes flashing as she tried tugging her arms out of his grasp.  
  
“Now which will it be?” he demanded, holding her still. “Take me or leave me - and we both know which I’d prefer - but if ye raise your hand to me again, your arse will smart for it.” After he’d made his point, he slowly released her hands and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your choice, Bridget,” he said sternly.  
  
For a long moment, she just stared at him, shocked and angry. Then her eyes narrowed. “Ye wouldn’t do it,” she said. “Ye wouldn’t dare.”  
  
Liam lowered his voice. “Of all the arses I’ve met, lass,” he said, “yours is the one most in need of a good thrashing.”  
  
Almost before he was done speaking, she’d slapped him again. She quickly followed up with a hard stomp to his foot.  
  
“Christ, woman!” he yelped, hopping backward to avoid a knee to the crotch as well.  
  
“You’ll not lay so much as a _finger_ on me, Liam O’Hallaran!” she hissed. She turned to walk away, but she didn’t get very far before he caught her by the elbow and swung her around.  
  
“Alright, my dear,” he said, hauling her back towards the building. “Ye can’t say I didn’t give ye fair warning.” There was an empty barrel lying on its side against the back wall of the tavern, and Liam abruptly sat down on it, pulling the struggling girl face down across his lap.  
  
“Let me go!” she yelled as he situated her writhing self over his knees. “Take your filthy hands off me this instant!”  
  
“Go on and cry out if ye want to,” Liam said, trapping her arms behind her back. “Someone might hear your carryin’ on and come to your rescue. And I’m sure ye wouldn’t mind being found like this, arse over tit, gettin’ your backside warmed by a ‘great oaf’ like myself.”  
  
At the thought of this happening, the girl stiffened and went completely silent. They could easily hear the voices of people laughing and singing inside the building behind them.  
  
“Let’s see now,” Liam went on speculatively, drumming his fingers on her tense back. “Ye slapped me three times and stamped on my foot. At five licks for each, that’s a score altogether. Isn’t that right, Bridget? You’ll forgive me, I was never good at maths.”  
  
“Feck yourself, Liam,” Bridget replied harshly.  
  
“A score and ten it is,” he amended, “and the last ten on your bare bottom for good measure.”  
  
Bridget, quite loudly, said nothing.  
  
Liam ran a hand over the girl’s dark green skirt, smoothing it across his plump target. She lay stiffly over his lap, obviously awaiting the first opportunity for escape. He tightened his grip on her. He didn’t intend to hurt her, not really - just embarrass her enough to teach her a lesson. He felt sure the brat had never had a spanking in her life. Which was a shame. She could have been a very nice girl.  
  
He let his palm rest on her bottom for a few seconds, then lifted his hand and brought it back down forcefully in the same place, the slapping sound muffled in the fabric of her dress. Bridget jerked forward and let out a tiny gasp, which made him smile. He rubbed the spot briefly and then did it right in the same place again, forcing another small sound from the girl. She hadn’t begun struggling yet, and it surprised him. He thought for sure once he’d started then she would try to get away again.  
  
He alternated the next licks from one side to the other, pausing briefly to rub out the sting each time. He let the blows become increasingly stronger, but he still took it fairly easy on her. Every strike caused the girl’s body to rock forward over his lap, creating a pleasant sensation in his groin. She grunted or gasped with each one, but she didn’t struggle or curse at him. Liam found the whole situation rather... arousing. So much so, that he forgot to keep count of how many times he’d spanked her.  
  
After one particularly loud thump of his hand against her bottom, Bridget, rather than simply gasping, called Liam’s name softly. He paused, rubbing his hand slowly back and forth over her round arse, and cleared his throat. “Did ye say something, Bridget?” he asked.  
  
Very quietly, the girl answered him, “Ye said... ye said the last ten - that they would be...” She swallowed and didn’t finish her sentence. Liam noticed that she was breathing heavily.  
  
“On your bare bottom,” he finished for her. “So I did.” Then, taking a chance, he released Bridget’s arms. “Be a good girl now and pull up your dress for me,” he told her.  
  
Liam still half-expected for the girl to bolt. He would have let her go if she had; he’d already given her at least twenty licks, probably a few more, and that was plenty. But if she wanted more, enough even to ask for it, he certainly wouldn’t refuse. He watched as she reached back for her skirt and began to slowly raise it, still lying across his thighs.  
  
When all three layers of her dress were bunched carefully on her back, Bridget stilled her hands, leaving them on top of the material in order to hold it up. Liam was thoroughly entranced with the sight of her shapely legs topped with a smooth, pinkened arse. He laid a hand on one warm cheek and squeezed lightly. Bridget sighed. The girl was primed for sex, he realized with surprise. He wondered if she’d let him give her a good fucking when they were done.  
  
The first smack against her bare skin made Bridget cry out. Liam rubbed over the spot tenderly and didn’t pop her as hard the next few times. She still made little noises, though, and squirmed a bit over his lap, but she didn’t once try to stand up or block the blows. This time, Liam remembered to count. When he got to eight and Bridget was breathing very quickly, he spent a long time petting her red bottom and thighs, soothing them with his palm. Just when she’d completely relaxed against him, he finished off with two very hard smacks, one to each cheek. So she’d remember her lesson.  
  
“There, all done now,” he said, running a hand softly across her rear. He wanted to press his fingers inside her, but didn’t, waiting to see what she would do first. His cock was as hard as stone beneath her belly.  
  
Bridget seemed to suddenly regain control of her limbs and clambered ungracefully off his lap, her skirt falling back down behind her. She turned to look at him and swallowed, her breathing still ragged, eyes shiny. He noticed that she had wet tracks down her cheeks, and he studied their glistening paths as she stood there in front of him, looking so innocent and... and hurt.  
  
And now he felt terribly guilty. “Bridget --” he started.  
  
She cut him off with a slap so forceful it actually turned his head. Without a word, she marched off, turned the corner around the tavern and was gone, leaving him sitting on the barrel with a hand up to his stinging cheek, silently working his jaw to see if it still closed right.  
  
Barely ten seconds later, Bridget reappeared from around the corner. He was surprised to see her again so soon and quickly tried to think of something to say, but he didn’t have the chance. She stepped right up to Liam’s barrel and shoved him backwards so that his head and shoulders hit the wall of the tavern, and when his mouth fell open in pain, she kissed him hard on the lips.  
  
It took a second to recover from his shock, but as soon as he did, Liam kissed her back just as hard. She reached down and began frantically unfastening his breeches as they sucked and bit at each other‘s lips, and he helped by yanking her skirt up high and grabbing one of her legs to pull her forward onto his lap, facing him. She practically fell onto his cock. They both inhaled sharply at the swift entrance, and Bridget’s fingernails dug into Liam’s shoulders. She was so hot inside that he almost came right away, and when she started riding him, it was all he could do to hold back.  
  
“I hate... your guts... Liam,” she gasped, bouncing quickly. Her head fell backwards, and she closed her eyes, grinding her hips in a circle against his lap.  
  
Holding her to him, Liam stood suddenly and turned around, shoving her back against the wall and pinning her there as he took control of the fucking. “I’m very... upset with ye... as well, Bridget,” he answered her raggedly. Her long green skirt hung down and brushed back and forth against the ground as he held her against the wall, thrusting roughly into her while she scratched at his back and pulled his hair.  
  
“Harder, ye fecking son of a whore,” she moaned. And he obliged, panting, crushing her to the wall.  
  
They climaxed together just a few short minutes later. Bridget bit him on the neck as she came.  
  


5.  
  
Liam had seen the gorgeous blonde two or three times before he followed her into the alley. He couldn’t help but notice her, wearing such fancy dresses in such common places as the taverns he frequented. Everyone noticed her, and talked about her too, when they thought she couldn’t hear. A duchess, they said, although no one recognized her, and she paid attention to no one. No one, that is, except Liam.  
  
He’d seen her watching him with an appraising eye, and it made him smile inwardly. He may already be 26 years old, but he obviously hadn’t lost any of his boyish charm. He’d even had a whole conversation with her one night, using solely his eyes. It had taken about five seconds, and it was in the middle of a brawl he’d accidentally started (but thoroughly enjoyed), and he’d been knocked unconscious before he had a chance to actually talk to her using words. But there’d been some chemistry between them - he was sure of it. So when he and Charlie had been tossed out of O’Malley’s again and his cousin had fallen drunkenly to sleep in the road, and Liam had glimpsed the blonde disappearing behind the building with a coy glance his way, he knew exactly how the scene would play out, and he followed her. Noble ladies were, he figured, just as horny as barmaids, after all.  
  
He was a little bit drunk, but that had never interfered with a conquest before. (Almost never.) Anyway, she obviously wanted him. It wasn’t until he actually saw her standing there waiting for him that he grew a tad apprehensive. There was something about her... He was usually so good at reading women, but for some reason, this one made him feel as though he were a little out of his element. Which was ridiculous, of course. After all, this was _his_ alley, wasn’t it? Anyway, it was too late to turn around. She’d already seen him. He took a deep breath, thought of something to say, and walked forward.  
  
“So I’d ask myself,” he said, approaching her slowly, “what’s a lady of your station doing alone in an alley with the reputation that this one has?”  
  
The blonde didn’t quite look at him, but he could hear her smile. “Maybe she’s lonely,” the woman suggested. Her voice was soft, and it made him think suddenly of someone he used to know, a long time ago. He wondered what the lady would say if he told her she reminded him of a whore.  
  
“In that case, I’d offer myself as escort - to protect ye from harm and to while away the dull hours,” he told her.  
  
“You’re very gracious,” she teased.  
  
He smiled. “It’s often been said.”  
  
They only chatted for a few moments, but for some reason, talking with this strange and exotic woman made Liam homesick. Maybe that’s what was different about her, he thought. No other woman had ever made him wish that he were back at his parents’ house, sleeping soundly in a warm bed - especially after a fight like the one he’d had with his father just days before. He thought about excusing himself and simply going home, but pride kept him from doing so. The woman was obviously much wealthier than any other girl he’d ever had, and he decided he was only feeling insecure because of that. He was sure that was all it was. And yet... something cold in the midst of her inviting expression nearly made him take a step back.  
  
There was something else about her, too. Something exciting. She was beautiful, but when he looked at her he also saw something powerful and dangerous, and she seemed to be presenting to him an opportunity. He wasn’t sure what the opportunity was, but he knew it was one that didn’t come around more than once in a lifetime. There was really no way he could leave before he found out what she was hiding, the secrets she dangled before him like a string for a cat. He was that way about all women; it was his downfall. He loved them, needed to see them laid bare so he could learn them all over, with warm lips and fingertips. And when this one said that she could take him places, show him things, something inside him believed her.  
  
“Close your eyes,” she said, and Liam immediately did as she asked.  
  
He expected a kiss.  
  
*  
  
END


End file.
